I miss her...
R.I.P. little me. (From my W.I.P., "Inside Her Mind".)
Existential dread.
A poetic diary entry…
I miss the girl who believed in better things.
I miss the girl who looked forward to the future.
I miss the girl whose passions set her alight, instead of filling her to the brim with fear and anxiety, ‘till the cup overflows and she’s drowning in madness.
I miss the days she was in love with life.
I miss the days that she was still alive.
I miss the days where her mind was quiet, when she didn’t spiral or lash out. At least, not without unbearable repercussions internally. Not that she’d ever been truly happy with herself, or saw herself in an angel’s light. She was born the devil, perhaps. But at least back then, that burden had been airier to bear.
I miss the days before the unmovable, irrevocable existential horror sunk into her bones, scalding her flesh and branding her indefinitely. Marking her misery like the dark, grey sky that followed her every move for years upon years.
I miss the time before the sun set for the final hour and the darkness that polluted the cloudy atmosphere would remain ‘till the end of her agonised survival. Little did she know that storm would come, anticipate its wrath, when its vice claws finally marked and sank into her. Stabbed, pierced her skin, tore it open and bled her bone-dry. Little could she have done to prepare for that.
She’d never known how cruel the world could truly be.
What was she still living for?
Delusion? Or just pure cowardice?
There is nothing left for her in this cruel, horrible little world.
She no longer thinks there’s anything worth saving in herself. She thinks her time is up. She feels like a lost cause. Perhaps she is.
I miss the time she had fight in her. Resilience, strength, a will. Determination. Whimsy. The dare to hope, to dream — the passionate surge to believe in better things.
I miss the days where the wounds felt healable, the burden felt liftable, the pain felt like it could one day, someday, ease.
Her heart throbs. Her body sags. Her back aches. Her head hurts.
Her mind is tired.
So damn exhausted.
I miss…well, the guilt was always there. The shame was always there. Inherent, a central part of her existence.
Always had been…
“I’m worthless. I’m a bad person. I’m useless. I’m ugly. I’m disgusting. I’m unlovable. I’m unlikeable. I’m stupid. I’m nasty. I’m horrible. I deserve the worst. I’m nothing.”
Yeah, that had always been there.
But still…she had hope once. That it would heal. That the burden could ease. That the wounds could close, the scars could fade.
Or at least, grow less sharp in their intensity, their stabs.
Please, she’d been crazy to think that. To think that things could one day get better.
It never gets better.
The clock ticks, the hours pass, the days fly, the years go by, but everything’s the same, alternating between bad and worse and no in-between or betters.
It’s bleak. It’s grim. It’s dark. It’s worthless.
It’s hopeless.
I know now that I’ll never get better.
But I miss the days I felt like I could.
Heyy, gorgeous! Thanks for reading!
This is a mini-extract from one of my WIP books; “Inside Her Mind” — a part-poetry book and part story about a young girl/woman, and the various life challenges and mental health struggles she’s faced throughout her years.
Probably my third proper extract so far, there’s two more here if you want to read them too!:
The slow erosion of her soul. - Another poem/diary entry!
Silence - A poetry extract from this book!
and…
✍️Earlier poems I’ve written here that I’ve decided to include in this book:✍️
Dopamine drug addict. - A poem, about struggling with procrastination and zero productivity.
Pull me under forever. - Poem about suicidal thoughts, through idioms.
(Quiet Strength is one of my personal favourites! It reignites my anger, rage and fiery energy! Makes me feel almost like the bold badass I know I was meant to be, and should’ve been, in a better life.)
I need you. - It's about craving a love so genuine yet painfully out of reach for no good reason.
Despair - Based on "twinkle twinkle little star", it's like a twisted lullaby connoting depression.
There’s more, but it would be a LONG ass list (I’ve written a LOT since I first joined this cute app!). So, feel free to scroll to the bottom of my posts for more of them!
And yes, most of these are heavily sad, because they’re honest. Raw.
Enough from me today though! Love y’all, loveliess, and I’ll see you soon!
Happy new year!
😍😍😍😘😘😘
❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹🫂🫂
© Zia Barti, 2026. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission from the author.
This is so tragically beautiful but so devastating as well oh my gosh 🥀❤️
Wow, this is so achingly beautiful.